Sincerely, Dad
by Random Guise
Summary: At the end of the movie "About Schmidt", Jack Nicholson's character is just starting to think maybe he has a place in this world after all after no longer having job, wife or daughter. This picks up where the movie left off, in the form of the letters that made up such a large part of the movie.


**A/N: Follows the events of the movie "About Schmidt".**

* * *

Sincerely, Dad

"Hey mom, we're back!" Randall Hertzel shouted into the house as he walked through the front doorway. Close behind, his bride Jeannie followed with two bags of luggage. They were quickly deposited out of the way and she left for another trip while Randall started looking through the house.

"I thought you were coming back into Denver tomorrow" his mother admonished as she hurried in from the kitchen. "Here I was going to make something special for your first dinner back."

"You still can" the son suggested, thinking about what food the kitchen might have in it.

"Where's my daughter-in-law?" Roberta Hertzel asked before seeing Jeannie carrying another two bags in, these tied with rope to keep them together. "Jeannie, you should have let Randall carry some of those."

"He wanted to keep his hands free to unlock the door" Jeannie said as she was hugged by the larger woman.

"But I've never locked my front door" Roberta responded.

"Oh, I didn't know your family did that."

"Anyway, you two made it back from almost three months in Florida. You have to have a seat and tell me all about it. How was Orlando?"

"Oh, Orlando was great once we got there" Jeannie started. "You wouldn't..."

"Oh, these are for you dear" Roberta interrupted as she dug into a box and withdrew a bundle of envelopes. "I kept your mail while you were gone" she said as she handed the pile to the now-seated Jeannie. "Now, did you make it to Key West?"

"No, we started and then broke down on the way. We were...wait, this one's from my dad" Jeannie said as she removed the top envelope from the bundle. "Since when does my dad write? He either calls or just drops by."

"He never wrote us" Randall said as he wandered back into the room with a sandwich.

"Did he know where to write you?" Roberta asked.

"No, not really. I think we sent dad a postcard from Tampa but we've been on the move a lot. I hope he's okay." Story temporarily forgotten, Jeannie opened the envelope and read the letter out loud.

 _Dear Jeannie:_

 _I hope this letter finds you and Randall well. Yes, you read that right. Although I still think you two aren't 'soul mates' as you kids say nowadays, you are both adults and it's up to you to find out if I'm right or not. I don't mind being wrong on this one, believe me._

 _If you're reading this then Roberta was kind enough to forward my letter to you. Now sit down because this next one might shock you: I'm going on a trip._

I hope he isn't going to visit here again, Jeannie thought to herself as she continued to read.

 _Don't worry, I'm not going to visit you. But I know I've got less life in front me me than behind me, and I want to do something that will make a difference to someone in the world. Like I said, you're an adult so I can only help so much in your life now and I bet the less I help the better for you. But back to the trip; I'm afraid the Winnebago won't make it where I'm going - I'm taking a trip to Tanzania._

"Tanzania!" she gasped in amazement as she stood up.

"Isn't that outside Atlanta?" Randall asked. "We bypassed that area because of traffic" he explained to his mother.

"Tanzania is in Africa" Roberta told her son flatly.

 _I've gotten my passport and inoculation shots taken care of, and I'm booked on a flight through Munich. I'll be flying out on October 16, so I have to make sure my bags are packed next week. I'll be crossing the Atlantic not long after you pull into Orlando if everything goes right. I'd call but I have no idea where you are right now. Sincerely, Dad._

"He always signs his letters 'sincerely'; would it kill him to say 'love' once? Wait...October 16? That was over a month ago!" Jeannie, now seated, exclaimed. "I think my dad's gone crazy. All those years working in a little office at Woodsmen of the World Insurance finally got to him. I've got to call him..." she said as she ran to the phone. After some frenzied dialing she put put the headset back on the cradle.

"His number is no longer in service" she uttered. "Something's happened."

"Were there any other letters?" Roberta asked.

"Oh my God, I didn't even think to look." Jeannie went back to her seat and picked up the bundle, sorting them until she got to a brightly colored envelope addressed from Warren Schmidt, Germany. She tore it open and read the note inside aloud.

 _Dear Jeannie:_

 _Ran into a little bump on my trip. I guess those inoculations were a little more powerful than they should have been and I've caught a couple bugs that are fighting for control right now. They say I won't be with them very long so I took the time to fill you in._

 _You're probably wondering why I chose Tanzania. Well, do you remember that African boy I'm sponsoring through that Childreach charity? His name is Ndugu Umbo and he lives in Tanzania. I've been writing him about my life, and when I got back from your wedding I found a letter from him just when I was feeling about as worthless as I've ever felt. I no longer have my old job or your mom, you've got your own life far away and even though the house is mine I still think of it as Helen's since she was the one that picked it and decorated it. All of my life from my younger days is now gone, demolished like my old house I grew up in or irrelevant like my fraternity in college. I was wondering what was left to look forward to.  
_

 _But Ndugu's letter changed that. For the first time in forever I feel like I've helped someone, made a little piece of the world better. It got me to thinking, and I realized that I can still do something with the time I have left so I decided to go visit Ndugu and see firsthand that my life isn't wasted. Here comes Nurse Ratched or whatever her name is, so I better wrap this up for now. Sincerely, Dad._

Jeannie was crying now. "You weren't useless dad, just...detached" she said in a low voice. "I wonder how long he lasted." As she wept she continued to sort through the mail with blurred vision. After a few pieces of junk mail she came to a box from a hospital in Germany. "Look, they sent his remains."

She tried to open the box but was having difficulty so Randall took over and practically mauled it in an attempt to breach the shipping tape. Roberta took the package and carefully opened it with a knife before handing it back to Jeannie. She lifted the top and pulled out two disposable cameras.

"Look, they filmed the cremation" Randall offered.

Jeannie looked and found only an envelope remaining in the box. Inside was a simple note: "Patient requests cameras be sent to family while he continues journey to Africa."

"So he's going to be buried in Africa" Randall guessed, proud of his logical prowess.

"No, I don't think so dear" Roberta pondered. "I think he's taking pictures of his trip, and figures there won't be a lot of places to develop the film once he gets there. There's no death certificate or even a bill so I guess he caught another flight."

Her curiosity halting her tears, Jeannie returned to the bundle. The next letter was in another brightly colored envelope, addressed from Tanzania.

 _Dear Jeannie:_

 _In my haste to get here I forgot exactly where I'm supposed to go; I know he lives in a small village outside of Mbeya but I don't know the name of the village or even in which direction to go. Fortunately, I know the name of the charity so I looked up the office of Plan USA and the Childreach organization. I managed to find someone who can take me to the village tomorrow; it's a man that has a private taxi service here in the town. His taxi smells like he transports livestock too.  
_

 _I don't know exactly why I came half way around the world to see a six year old orphan. I know better than to think my insurance actuarial skills could be of any use, and I'm not really the type that is going to dig ditches or build barns. But I have to go see how this young child, this potential artist or author or farmer has been helped by me. There has to be something I've done. It will be a long day tomorrow, so I'll wrap this up. Sincerely, Dad._

"He made it okay" Roberta said after Jeannie finished the letter.

"Assuming the taxi driver didn't get him" Randall chimed in. His mother suggested there might be some cake left in the fridge and he grinned before disappearing through the doorway.

"He means well, but Randall is always thinking too far ahead" Roberta spoke to Jeannie _sotto voce_. "Don't stop there; go on to the next letter, I see at least one more of those envelopes" she prodded in a normal voice again. Jeannie skipped straight to the envelope and continued.

 _Dear Jeannie:_

 _What a week it's been. I was going to spend the day in Ndugu's village before returning to my hotel in Mbeya, but Sister Nadine Gautier of the order of the Sisters of the Sacred Heart has arranged for me to stay with a family here in the village. I'd tell you the name, but I haven't learned to say it right yet; when I try everyone laughs and pats me on the back._

 _I'm something of a celebrity here. The village knew someone from America was sponsoring Ndugu, but now they see the real thing. I'm nothing special, but to these people I'm the richest person they've ever met. Some know English, at least a few words anyway. I'm trying to learn Swayhili but it's a slow process but everyone encourages me and I feel like I'm part of the village. In a way it reminds me of the town of Holdrege when I grew up; small, no big stores and everybody walks to where they want to go._

 _Ndugu is almost seven now, and you should have seen him when I presented the artist kit I brought with me. He cried Jeannie, he really did. Then that got Sister Nadine worked up and then all the kids in the school made such a racket when Ndugu showed them what was inside. I think I must have gotten thirty pictures from kids that day as they tried out the new supplies._

 _Did you know these people get their drinking and cooking water from a river? They have to carry it into town because they don't have utilities here. I got to thinking about it, and the next day I rode back into Mbeya and ordered some more art supplies for the school and a well with a hand pump for the village. I still had some money left over from your mother's life insurance, and I'd rather spend it here on these people than blow it on a trip to Hawaii or something. Can you really picture me in Hawaii anyway? Gonna go back to the village now, but I wanted you to be kept up to date. Hope you got the pictures from those disposable cameras I sent. I think I'm going to stay a little longer than I originally planned, but I have Mr. Sloan our solicitor to take care of things while I'm gone. Sincerely, Dad._

"I can't picture dad in Hawaii, Africa or even outside Omaha" Jeannie said with a smile.

"Your father is certainly a lot more adventurous than I gave him credit for" Robert added.

"The height of adventure to dad was trying a new restaurant for the first time. I wish he would date these letters, I have no idea when he wrote them. But I better see if there's another." She flipped through the rest of the bundle and found one remaining letter. "Only one left. I think Mr. Sloan forgot to pay the phone bill; I wonder if the power is still on?"

She opened the last letter and read aloud.

 _Dear Jeannie:_

 _Please understand when I write these that I am writing to you, Randall, Roberta and Duncan but that takes too long to write out so I address it to you._

 _I have to admit when I met the Hertzel family I felt that I'd never run into such a family of odd people in all my life. I say that only because I've had a very sheltered life, with only work and immediate family supplemented with few friends. But I say had, for the last few months have opened my eyes like they've never been opened before._

 _When you live in a house a long time, it may take you decades to repaint a room. You don't really know how faded the paint on the walls is until you take down the pictures and clocks and mirrors that have hung there for longer than you can remember. Afterward you're left with faded walls and empty unfaded spots in the shape of what things used to be there. And that's my life; strip away the job and the family and the friends and all you have left is reminders of what you used to have._

 _But I've been a fool, because there is so much more out there beyond those faded walls. Different places, different people and new tasks are waiting if only they are sought out. A seed sitting in a jar does nothing, but if it's taken out and sewn anything's possible. You can't feed the world with one seed, but you can feed one person or maybe even a family; use the seeds from that and you might feed a small village and if those seeds are spread...you get the idea._

 _Your lovely mother-in-law tried to tell me this in her own way and I just didn't understand. Now I do, by God I do._

 _My dearest daughter, I love you and I can just imagine the shock on your face when I say it because I've never been comfortable saying it before. I've done the best I could and I hope you accept that, even if I haven't always been the most nurturing Father Knows Best kind of dad. But there will be a package arriving shortly; in it you will find some more of those disposable cameras and another letter. I want you to take the letter to Mr. Sloan at your earliest convenience._

 _To take the mystery out of it, the letter will inform him on the sale of my house. You can go through it and have whatever you want if you'd like, or just sell it like it is. You and Randall can have half the proceeds and use it to get a good start on life; I won't even tell you how to spend it. You can have the Winnebago too if you'd like, or sell it as well; it only has the one trip on it._

 _The other half will go into my account to draw on as I need; I'm going to retire here in Tanzania and I'm sure to have a few expenses while I'm settling in. The cost of living is pretty cheap here, and I figure I can live for about another 160 years or so if I manage my money well. I might take a trip to see Kilimanjaro and the Serengeti since they are so close and the mood might strike any time. I've enclosed the address I can be written to here, care of the sisters. Feel free to come on down with Randall if you want; just watch out for those inoculation shots. I'll finish off the roll of film this week and post that package shortly. Until then._

 _Love, Dad._

Jeannie sat, crying. "He said he loves me." Roberta sat, crying as well.

Randall wandered in and asked "So did he die after all?"

"No," his mother replied "but we're going to Africa for a visit."

" _We're_ going?" Jeannie sniffed.

"Are you kidding? Warren is the most warm, sensitive, adventurous man in the world and I've _got_ to see how he's doing. Let's get that house sale thing wrapped up sweetie, okay? I'll call Dr. Scott tomorrow about getting our shots."

The End

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 **A/N: Jack Nicholson plays the part of a 'little man', someone who starts out perplexed with life and his place in it after retirement but by the end of the movie starts to grow into an appreciation of his possible place in it. I just took the ending and ran it out a bit more to get him a chance to grow even more. Now while I'm proofing this story I can hear his voice while reading the letters.**


End file.
